Enigmatic
by Passion4Writing1218
Summary: It takes just the right guy to make you feel the way that you do. And when it happens, the feeling is just enigmatic. Massie Block has always been confident. But when her right guy comes along, she feels something she's never felt before...shy. R


He wasn't the normal jerk that I usually fell for. I usually fell for the popular guys; the ones everyone wants. The ones that play around with girls like a puppy with a basket of chew toys. The ones who toyed with a new girl everyday, making each girl feel beautiful, wanted, appreciated, and then breezing them off if they spoke a word to them the next day. Those were the guys I usually fell for.

But he was different. I had sat next to him a year ago in math class, and he bugged the crap out of me for the whole term. We fought like cats and dogs. Sometimes he would shake the table while I tried to write, and I got so angry with him! But we didn't fight all the time; there was this boy John, who hated him, and would glare at him from across the room, and every time John saw us talking, he would yell "Are you talking about me?" And we used to laugh. We also liked to make fun of the teacher, who, at the time, I thought was a weird guy, but I realize now he wasn't so bad.

So at the end of the year, we went for summer vacation, and I forgot about him. I didn't really care; it's not like we were great friends or anything.

But the next year, we were in the same math class again, and when we worked on our homework with friends in the class, we were at the same table, and we talked and we laughed about memories from last year. I thought it was nothing; I thought it was just us finally not fighting, finally getting along. But then he was placed across from me in English class, and we talked and laughed, making fun of our teacher. We would also talk about John and his freaky glare.

At the next school dance, when a slow song came on, and I sat alone, I kept looking at him, and I felt so jealous when I found out he wanted to ask a girl to dance. I wondered why I felt that way.

I had a sleepover with my friends after the dance, and, unfortunately for me, I kept accidentally bringing him up. I told them about our inside jokes, and how I used to hate him, and my dream that he just happened to appear in, and how I felt bad that a girl had rejected him. And one of my best friends saw through me.

"You like him!" she had exclaimed. "You keep talking about him!"

"No, I don't," I had stammered. But that was the moment, I truly realized, that I did.

I couldn't look at him the next school day. It was just too embarrassing.

I kept my little "crush" a secret from my friends, because, I _really_ didn't want him to find out. And the last five crushes I'd had, the guys I liked all ended up finding out that I liked them. From my friends. So I never really mentioned him again to my friends, not wanting to make them suspicious.

I also didn't tell them because I thought that it was just another crush; I thought I would get over him in a few days. But I was very wrong.

I always looked forward to math and English class, my new two favorite classes. And he appeared in three more of my dreams. No boy I had ever liked had ever been in any of my dreams.

I kept telling myself that it was just a little crush; that it would be over soon, and that if I made a big deal out of it, and then got over him, it would just annoy my friends.

But I often stayed up late at night, just thinking about him. My mind would drift off, but it would always come back to him.

I started to think I was desperate. I started to think I was a loser, and I that I was too obsessed with him, and that he would think I was a stalker. Sometimes I would just lie in bed, and tears would come, for no reason at all. It was enigmatic to me. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't explain why I felt this way. It was a mystery.

In school I started to become nervous around him. My palms would sweat, and I would play with my hair, and became more self conscious. Some days he and a friend or two of his would sit with us, and each time I would, for the most part, stay silent. I was _always_ jealous of whichever lucky girl he sat next to.

He wasn't a jerk. One of my best friends was a really good friend of his, and she said that he was really a deep guy. He said he was philosophical. And I really liked sweet, compassionate, deep guys; much, much more than conceited, never-think-more-than-they-have-to guys.

But I thought I didn't deserve him. He was so, perfect, and I was just me.

Then, my English teacher changed our seats, and he was at the opposite side of the room. I hated her for it. I really, really did.

I couldn't talk to him anymore. I didn't want to look like I was clingy, or desperate, or trying to hard. So I didn't go up to him. And I stopped talking to him. Why put myself through it? I was just hurting myself. There are some times when you like a guy, and you just can't stay away from him. You just _have _to go up to him whenever you can, and you talk about whatever you can think of.

This wasn't one of those times.


End file.
